


this version of normal

by sportsnightnut



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16321055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sportsnightnut/pseuds/sportsnightnut
Summary: They chose her name years ago, when one night, tipsy from red wine and drunk on each other, they planned out their future together. A future where bad things wouldn’t happen to them. Where they would live in a cute little house and be a cute little family and maybe try to find some semblance of normal for once, whatever that might mean for them.





	this version of normal

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @megk18’s post on Tumblr, wherein Mulder determines that he wants their baby girl to be photographed in a pumpkin. I think this is an absolutely perfect headcanon, so I turned it into a lil’ fic. :)
> 
> Set post-S11, but there’s barely a raindrop of angst in here. Maybe two tiny drops, but it’s 99.8% fluff. So go ahead and call your dentist now if you haven’t recently, ’cause you’re probably going to need a good teeth cleaning after this.
> 
> Suggested listening: “Fathers and Daughters” by Paul Simon.

They chose her name years ago, when one night, tipsy from red wine and drunk on each other, they planned out their future together. A future where bad things wouldn’t happen to them. Where they would live in a cute little house and be a cute little family and maybe try to find some semblance of  _normal_ for once, whatever that might mean for them.

Mulder poured them each another glass of wine and returned to his end of the couch; her feet quickly found their way back to the comfy spot on his lap.

As Scully swirled the dark red liquid around in her glass, she smiled at him. “What would we name her?”

And for some reason it had always been a  _her_. Maybe because it was too painful to talk about it being a him. Maybe because this was all daydreaming anyway, planning for a future they weren’t sure would be possible.

“Caroline,” Mulder said almost immediately, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile. “It means strong. Like you. Like us.”

* * *

The days between that night and this one haven’t been as normal or as peaceful as they had hoped.

When she tells him the news, he says “ _That’s impossible,_ ” and she says, “ _I know. I know it is. It’s more than impossible._ ”

But the way he holds her in the moments following, rests his chin on her head, uses his thumb to rub her back comfortingly, isn’t impossible or new or surprising. It’s just them, together. 

As partners. 

As they’ve always been. 

As they’ve always hoped to be.

* * *

 

Her hair has grown since the winter, lightened considerably by the sun so that it looks more strawberry blonde than dark red. Frizzy from the late summer humidity, it’s swept up into a messy ponytail.  She’s wearing her favorite black yoga pants, which are stretched out by her belly and covered by the oversized Yankees tank she wears on top. No bra, because it’s too hot and they’re too itchy and they all dig into her in the wrong places these days, and also because Mulder has whatever the opposite of complaints are about that.

Scully is bothered because it’s September and it’s still hot as hell outside. She loves Virginia and all its seasons, but these days, she’s feeling like summer has overstayed its welcome. She pads around the kitchen, grabs things from various cabinets and drawers, glances at her phone every few minutes to double-check the measurements. The dish just barely makes it into the oven before Mulder arrives to investigate.

Before he can say anything, Scully holds up her hand to stop him.

“I know it’s 86 degrees out with 79 percent humidity, but I’m sweaty and I want it to be fall so I’m making pumpkin bars. Okay?”

She’s defensive about pumpkin bars, and Mulder knows she would likely whack him with the crockpot lid she’s holding if he commented on how goddamn adorable she is right now, so he just nods. “I like pumpkin bars. What’s going in the crockpot?”

“Applesauce,” she confirms. Before she can ask, he’s secured the paring knife from the drawer to the right of the stove, and he holds his hand out for an apple.

“Applesauce sounds good,” Mulder says reassuringly. He places a soft kiss on her cheek which elicits a small smile.

She taps a few buttons on her phone and suddenly the Yankees - Red Sox playoff game is playing over the bluetooth speakers. Mulder looks over at her and wonders if it’s possible to be any more in love with a woman than he is with Dana Katherine Scully.

He decides midway through peeling the first apple that the answer to that question is no.

* * *

 When it’s time, Scully is much calmer than he is. Mulder isn’t really surprised by this, considering that’s how it has been the entirety of their relationship (and the fact that she’s, you know, a doctor), but he  _is_ a little surprised at the sense of panic he feels.

“Hey.  _Hey,_ ” Scully says quietly. She reaches over to place her hand on top of his. “I’m fine. She’s fine. The contractions aren’t that close together yet. We have  _plenty_ of time.”

Mulder nods, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles start to turn white. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there the first time.”

Scully pulls his right hand from the steering wheel so she can hold it tightly in her own. This isn’t the first time he’s said that, and she knows it won’t be the last.

“I know. But you’re here now.” She places a kiss on the back of Mulder’s hand and feels the pulse in his wrist begin to slow.

* * *

When Caroline Melissa Mulder is placed into her father’s arms, he is awestruck.

“Hi there,” Mulder murmurs, pressing his lips to her sweet, soft head. He had never quite decided on a nickname he’d like to call her; his family hadn’t been that kind of family, so there wasn’t anything that rolled naturally off his tongue.

But when he looks down at Caroline’s tiny chubby cheeks, her tiny green eyes, and the smattering of beautiful auburn hair on top of her tiny head, he knows right away what to call her.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

* * *

Caroline has been home with them for just barely a week, and Mulder is doing everything he can to make up for the fact that he wasn’t there the first time. So much so that Scully has to remind him that he may want to lay her down occasionally, lest her father’s arms become the only place his little pumpkin can sleep.

He tries to fumble with an excuse, but she kisses him in the middle of a sentence as if to say  _“It’s okay. I understand. I’m glad you’re here.”_

The October evening is cool but not cold, so Scully leaves the kitchen window open to let in a little fresh air. She lights the new candle they picked up at Trader Joe’s yesterday (vanilla pumpkin, naturally) and puts two squares of apple crisp into the oven. She finishes portioning the pot roast leftovers into their little glass containers, turns on the dishwasher, and gets The West Wing ready on Netflix before heading upstairs. (Caroline slept most of the way through the night last night, so Scully is hopeful that they can stay awake for at least one whole episode.)

She stops in the doorway of the nursery and smiles at the sight of her husband rocking their daughter, talking to her in hushed tones and humming a Paul Simon song to help her fall asleep.

Mulder isn’t immediately aware of Scully’s presence because he’s so focused on the little girl in his arms, but soon enough he looks up and sees her there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, that same smile still brightening her face.

He places Caroline gently in the crib and dims the light fully, double-checking to make sure the baby monitor is on. He follows Scully downstairs with his hand on the small of her back, taking care to avoid the creaky step. Two empty bowls await them on the kitchen counter, ready to be filled with apple crisp and ice cream.

“So I have an idea for her newborn pictures,” Mulder starts as he pulls the warm apple crisp from the oven. Scully removes her head from the freezer, leaning over so he can take the carton of ice cream from her outstretched arm. “I saw a bunch of stuff on a website…Pinterest?”

Scully rolls her eyes. “You’ve gone down the internet rabbit hole. Next you’re going to tell me you started a board full of Thanksgiving recipes and Christmas cookies.”

“Maybe,” he answers with a wink. She chuckles as he passes the carton of ice cream back. “What would you think of putting her in an actual pumpkin? I dunno, it’s probably too much, but I saw this one where there was a blanket draped over the pumpkin and the baby was sleepy and she had a little bow on and…” Mulder trails off as he pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans to show her the photo he’d saved.

Scully smiles as she wraps her arms around him, her cheek resting comfortably against his soft sweater. “I think putting our pumpkin in a pumpkin might be the most precious idea I’ve ever heard.”

They like this version of normal.

 

 


End file.
